


Home

by whimsicalMelancholy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, hella fluff, like seriously, look at these dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalMelancholy/pseuds/whimsicalMelancholy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave works late. When he works late, he gets drunk. When he gets drunk, he turns into a cuddly octopus.<br/>John is his favorite victim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble for my OTP of OTPs, my first work here! Please welcome me to the community!

John wakes up to not the comfortable silence of morning, but the still darkness of night, and limbs tangled with his own.

He recognizes those limbs, the pale, gangly ones that belong to his boyfriend Dave, who smells of alcohol and sweat.

John groans quietly, wishing that Dave wouldn't work late shifts because clearly, being intoxicated and tired every night means his own bed is not suitable, so he must make someone else his bed. John is his favorite victim.

He tries to tug himself out of the cuddly octopus's grasp, only eliciting a groan from said octopus. He sighs and resigns himself to the fact that there is an octopus in his bed. Again.

"C'mon, Dave, let go." he mumbles, throat scratchy. Dave grunts and mumbles.

"Mmm...Johhn?" he slurs quietly, his Texan accent making way into his drunken speech,

"Yes, John. Get off me, please." This only serves to make Dave cling tighter to him, making the raven-haired boy sigh.

"Don' wanna...y'r r'ly comfy..." A smile makes its way onto Dave's drunken face. "and you smell r'ly nice. I like you." John bites back a laugh and rolls his eyes. Not because he's so sweet and adorable, but rather the thought that if Dave ever heard what he was saying right now, he'd probably go into shock. Dave sniffs a little and snuggles into the crook of John's neck.

"You smell like....like soap." he murmurs. "And...home."

Home.

The thought certainly wakes John up.

He smells like home.

He's not focusing on the fact that his boyfriend's olfactory sense is really fucked up if he thinks John's dirty pajamas and shampoo smells like home or the cuddly octopus himself, but the fact that that octopus he loves so much thinks he's home.

Or that he smells like home, at least. 

All of John's previous anger of being snuggled awake dissipates to make room for his love for Dave and John smiles and lets Dave rest his blond head underneath his own and pulls the boy closer.

"I love you, Dave."

"Mmmm...me too."

And they both fall asleep, breathing in the scent of home.


End file.
